A can o' beans on a red suitcase,
Christ,
it must be Judgement Day;
even the sky feels empty,
even the shadows seem robbed of their coolness,
so I leave'em there,
the empti tyn and the ruid sedcase baking in the ympty ske
and I crush them *******' dark lenses under my boots,
Lord,
and I walk on down that dusty-blue road.